And the fun is over...

Well ladies and gents, I thought I'd go ahead and take away a little of the mysticism and mystery that surround who I am today.

Yes, yes. We know I'm Katie. I also have been known to answer to Kate, Dina, Sarah Katherine, Serabi, hot shot, and through most of high school I answered to KT.

But what about me makes me tick? What's something some people might not know about me. (Husband does - but he has to live with me on a day in and day out basis. Parents also might know more thann others, but they too lived with me on a daily basis for 18 or so years.)

Well, I obviously can't disclose EVERYTHING about me here and now. That would take away the appeal of Blogging. The facelessness of and anonymity of divulging thoughts and ramblings to the unknown populous. It really is fun.

But to give you a small look into me I'll share a couple of quirky things about the face behind the black screen writing all this mess...

We'll start out gentle. Soft and warm. We're talking about pillow cases. I LOVE flannel pillow cases. The softness of flannel amazes me.

I'm not talking flannel plaid lumberjack-shirt flannel here. I'm talking a 300 or 600 or 1,000 thread-count white or solid color flannel. (Does such a high count exist for flannel?)

Warm, soft and gentle on my face. None of this crawling into bed after a long hard day to collapse down upon a pillow with a cold non-fuzzy cotton or satin. It's too slick and cool. I need that extra little bit of fuzz upon which there is no coolness to bury my head deep down into as I close my eyes and check for light cracks in my eyelids.

And while we're talking about light and sleeping. A room for sleeping needs to be as dark as possible. None of this sleeping with the TV on or a night light. Make me think I'm at the bottom of the globe and it's 24 hr. pitch black. I don't even like to have my cell phone charging light on.

No light and a good flannel pillowcase on a super squishy soft goose down pillow. Yeah, now I'm ready for some serious sleeping. And sleeping to me is serious. I don't do it because I have to, I do it because I LOVE it. Sleep - oh yeah!

And moving on... how about a dislike. I've given you a like and a love... What do I not like?

Feet. I don't like feet. It's not that I don't want feet. I need mine. And you need yours - so I won't wish them away or make you cut them off.

But when I'm #2 in the New World (Kate, we got to come up with a great name for this place...) people will either have perfectly groomed feet in my presence or wear shoes that cover it all up. No cracked heels or nasty unkept toes wiggling at me.

And mark my words - ain't no way in the world someone's going to rub a foot anywhere on me or come too close with that thing.

Now I realize feet are a part of people and I generally like people. But feet - I just don't like 'em. And it's weird - because tiny little baby feet don't bother me. I can handle them. It's right about 3 or 4 when the kids starting to get stinky feet and they're in some dirty sweaty old shoe that I start to dislike them.

And adult feet are okay as long as they're not on me and they're groomed well and don't have scales flaking off and corns and ingrown toenails, etc. Keep 'em clean, cut down and trimmed up. Girls - nail polish goes a loooonnnngggg way in helping feet look better.

I recommend pedicures for all - men and women. They feel great and keep those feet in tip-top shape. Yes, it is ironic that I don't mind having pedicures since I personally hate feel. But really, it makes me appreciate the person who's scrubbing them and massaging them even more because I know for a fact that is one of the absolute worst jobs I'd ever have to take. Seriously - I would take so many other 'bad' jobs over that. But some people don't mind, and to them I'm very thankful.

So there's a little about me. I dig the flannel, but don't be rubbing your feet anywhere near me or my pillows. Odd combination? Sure. But that's what keeps things fun...